One Shots Written to Songs

Slow Me Down

Song: "Slow Me Down" - Emmy Rossum

Title: Blue Eyed Panic

  She could feel the cold chill settle in the pit of her stomach, the chill itself could be described as a slow build up of an unknown emotion and as the pressure grows she began to feel a numbing ache flow into her bloodstream, spreading throughout her entire body until a rush comparable to that of a flowing river begins to take over her thoughts. Her heart races, the build up continuing until the unknown trigger pops it and panic bursts forth, coating every inch of her mind with an unknown fear. Her heart beats faster and faster, helping spread the poison through her frozen body, unknowingly feeding the attack from within but as the panic slaughters any sense of tranquility a single word begins running across her mind, circulating and demanding that she acknowledge it.

       Run. 

  That single word sends her into a rushed frenzy, feeding the panic multiplying inside her like a cancerous virus, and she soon finds herself running out of suffocating playground and into the crowded streets of Boston. Her legs pump up and down until she’s moving so fast the tears trapped in her grey eyes begin pouring out only to be blow into her bouncing-brunette curls. She pushes herself harder, faster until she forgets herself, falling back into that dark hole she’d seemed to have only just crawled out of. She knew -deep down- that’d she’d begun questioning herself again which only led down a painful lonely road that would tear any sense of purpose and life away from her shaking hands.

      Save me, somebody take my hand and lead me.

  Angry voices and blank faces begin to filter in, passing the wall her body had blindly thrown up, as she shoved through the traffic of city life. She felt as if she understood how the salmon felt when it pushed it’s way upriver, against the current to lay it’s eggs before it died a slow meaningful death; death, eggs, baby, gone. Panic once again surged through her body, pushing her numb body even faster, something that would of shocked her if she had any sense of awareness during an attack like this. Instead she pushed away the sounds of life, allowing her mind to spin out of control and muddle her direction and strength. Rather than feeling in-control or empowered like her shrink had told her she was, she felt as if the last three months of therapy had gotten her nowhere and had secretly made everything worse; who was she to feel happy, or like she should be alive? She didn’t deserve to feel anything build pain, her deserved mental state was depression not jubilance.

      Slow me down, don’t let me live a lie.

  She tried to hate herself, she tried to tell herself she what she deserved, or beat on herself until she laid on the cool ground curled up and weeping but her heart said otherwise. That’s how it always was though, her mind and heart colliding like battling eagles in a dark-stormy sky until one was the victor. Her mind reminded her that she was incapable, she was a horrible human that needed to be exterminated or cast aside but her heart whispered words of forgiveness and love and continued the battle of darkness and light. Since the incident her mind had been in control, feeding her cold facts and hateful lies that drowned out the screams of truth and tendrils of warm comfort. Her heart, mind, and soul were chaotic and frenzied; numb, empty, invisible one second but warm, alive, and wanted the next. Everyday was a battle filled with seemingly unending struggles that appeared unbeatable; but where they? Could she conquer this? Rise above whatever was choking her and shoving her back into the icy darkness of panic and depression? No, she couldn’t because her path was set.

      Slow me down, don't let love pass me by.

  The pace of her life had been set at such a fast speed the world, and even she knew it was just a matter of time before she fell flat on her face in defeat, only then would they be happy. Once she was crushed and cast aside would the world determine that what she had done could be reconciled, paid for, wiped lean. Until then, until she took her final step and fell down onto her knees with a sickening ‘thud’ would everything come to a crashing halt. Nothing she could say or do would end her dark depression, no amount of wishing could stop the onslaught and destruction of her being. Instead, like a lab mouse trapped in a maze, she would continue forward as fast as she could trying to outrun the painful electric shock of life.